


Sins

by Dracones95



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4776746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracones95/pseuds/Dracones95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul doesn't take kindly to Ash showing up on his doorstep one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sins

"You're fucking disgusting!"

The vile insult hit Ash hard, making him cringe and avert his eyes from the terrifying sight in front of him. The purple head was fuming, fists clenching and unclenching in an almost steady rhythm, jaws clenched so hard they ached.

Ash didn't know what he expected. Walking to Paul's room in the middle of the night, after tossing and turning for several hours in his own bed, unable to sleep, had been one of the stupidest things he's ever done in his life. Probably the stupidest, considering all the words that came out of his mouth after Paul had greeted him with a "what the fuck are you doing here?"

He was seized by the collar of his undershirt and thrown into the wall, slamming into the bricks with a choked groan. Paul's hand caught his lower jaw so violently that the back of his head banged once again into the wall, sending a shock wave through his skull that made his vision spin. His mouth filled with a metallic taste, a single droplet dripping slowly from the corner of his lips to his chin; he had bit his tongue quite viciously, courtesy of being thrashed and thrown around like a rag doll. He raised his hand to wipe it away, but Paul caught his wrist and squeezed hard, grinding all the bones together.

"No, no, no, let it bleed, you deserve it." he said through gritted teeth, tightening his fist around Ash's wrist until the other teen could no longer hold in a shout of pain. "Do you even know how fucking sick this feelings of yours are?" Ash winced, cursing wildly inside his head. Like he didn't know. Like he didn't stay up night after night turning it over in his mind, until he couldn't take it anymore and had to confess, tell somebody about it, take it off his chest. Like he could choose who he had feelings for. If he could've chosen, it would've never been  **him.**

"How could you think that I would ever feel the same way for you?" Ash coughed violently, trying to make the nausea that had taken over him disappear. A few droplets of blood flew out and sprayed Paul's purple jacket, but the trainer didn't notice. He wished he had at least taken Pikachu with him, but that would've looked quite pathetic. Little Ashy boy, not able to fend for himself. And, to be honest, he did not expect such a violent outburst from Paul. The most likely outcome of this entire charade, Ash had presumed, would have been Paul kicking him out and never wanting to have anything to do with him anymore.

He had fancied way too much; what went on inside his sick head wasn't real, can't and never will be, and so were his chances that Paul might return his feelings. Not possible.  
He gasped when Paul's fist jabbed into his stomach, emptying his lungs of air. The satisfaction painted on Paul's face was sickening; he enjoyed it, loved it even. Loved every single ounce of pain he was inflicting on the other boy. His clenched fist connected with Ash's temple, sending him sprawling on the bed.

"Please, stop!" He resorted to begging, dignity long gone, covering his face with the back of his hand; half of it throbbed, burning hot like it was on fire. He rolled on his back on the bed; it felt good to rest his battered body and pulsing nerves, catch a small break. Something told him it wasn't going to end that soon. Two more blows to his ribs, filled with hatred, had him gasping for air, eyes tearing up. Paul caught one of his arms and twisted it, pinning it into the mattress.

"Stop? This is all your damn fault. Everything that's happening to you right now is your own doing, keep that in mind." He twisted further and Ash shifted his body, rolling on his side to avoid snapping the bone. "What did your precious friends say about this, huh? Or maybe you haven't told them?" Ash bit his lip and lowered his eyes. The question hurt even more than Paul intended to; he had, at some point, considered telling them, hoping to get at least one piece of advice from them, but decided against it. He would have hated to see the disappointed and worried look on Brock's face, or the heart-broken expression on Dawn's. Young, innocent Dawn. And so Ash had kept them out of this, as much as it pained him to keep things from them, it was for their own good. Or so he thought. 

The regret must have been reflecting in his eyes, because Paul's face suddenly became downright malevolent.

"What would've that ditzy chick say, if she knew her knight in shining armor would rather suck a dick than stick his in her." Ash jerked his arm free from Paul's grasp, much to his surprise, eyes burning with rage.

"Don't talk about her like that." He yelled. "Leave them out of this, they did nothing wrong." The slap caught him across the face, stunning him.

"So you'd rather lead her on, let her suffer than tell her the truth. Hell of a friend you are." Ash grit his teeth. He was just realizing that Paul was by now straddling him, using his weight to keep him pinned to the mattress. His face flushed against his will.

"Oh, I bet you fancied me, didn't you?" Paul said, his handsome features twisting into a mischievous smirk. His hand rested heavily on Ash's chest, feeling him flinch under his touch. Ash's face burned with shame, anger, and arousal.

Suddenly, Paul was off of him, hauling him up by his jacket and shoving him in the middle of the room harshly. Ash lost his footing and landed painfully on his side on the floor.  
"Get up." He pulled himself to his feet, panting from the effort and doing his best to ignore the dull pain in his torso.

"Take your clothes off." Ash stared, confused by the sudden change of heart. Maybe he didn't hear it right. "What?"

"Do it. Now. Or the first thing I'll do in the morning is go to your little friend and tell her everything." Ash felt sick to his stomach.

"She wouldn't believe you." He said, but he didn't sound too sure of that. Dawn would clearly question how Paul could come up with such a ridiculous story, and Ash was certain he would not be able to keep his facade from cracking much longer.

Paul watched satisfied as Ash slipped the jacket off his shoulders, curled it in a ball and flung it at him; it unfurled in the air and landed harmlessly at his feet. Next it was the shirt. Ash undid every button slowly, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He shivered when it came off; he was getting more and more uncomfortable and it showed in his movements and the fact that he avoided looking at Paul, preferring to study the patterns on the carpet. Paul's smirk widened considerably.

"What? Isn't this what you wanted?" He mocked him. Ash crossed his arms over his chest, trying to cover himself as much as possible. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen, not how he pictured it. "Jeans too, come on." He exposed his chest, hands moving to undo the button. They started shaking by the time he reached the zipper, pulling it down and letting the denim slide down his legs. They pooled around his ankles and he stepped out of them, nudging them away with his foot. He heard the bed creak and he was grabbed by the hair and pushed forcefully down on his knees, his face inches away from Paul's crotch.

"Take it out." Ash's face reddened and burned like a rod thrown in a fire. The zipper felt cold and smooth between his fingers as he opened it, contrasting heavily with the fever that had taken over his system. Paul's jeans slid down to his thighs. Ash didn't dare look up at the object of his affection's face, embarrassed and slightly aroused at the same time. He felt his presence, towering over him, dominating him; it gave him chills running down his spine. He hooked his thumbs in Paul's underwear, waiting for Paul to change his mind, or give him more instructions; the other boy didn’t make a sound, however, and Ash dragged it south. Half hard, Paul’s cock bounced free in front of his eyes, and Ash averted his eyes; his face felt as if it would melt off. This was not how it was supposed to happen.

“Now you’re ashamed of yourself?” A hand gripped his hair painfully, pulling his head up and shoving his nose into the musty smell of salty skin. “It’s a little bit too late for that now.” A few strands of hair were harshly ripped out of its roots and Ash felt tears threatening to cascade down his face; he blinked, quickly, trying to keep them from betraying him. Last thing he needed was to show Paul even more weakness.

Paul didn’t let go of his hair, keeping him in place at his feet with his left hand, as he stroke himself into full hardness with a few languid flicks of his right wrist. Ash watched, mesmerized, the erect member. He had lost count of how many times he had pictured himself taking that cock in his mouth, slicking it up and watching it glisten with his own saliva in the dim lights of a hotel room. Watching Paul throw his head back and moan and pant in pure ecstasy. Now, it just felt sick. Like something had gone horribly wrong.

“Open your mouth.” He obeyed like a good dog, allowing Paul to guide him. It filled his hot, wet cavern and he flattened his tongue, reminding himself how to breathe through his nose. The smell invaded his nostrils, making his head spin and fogging his judgment. It felt like he took too big of a bite out of something, and now he couldn’t swallow nor spit it out. “Move.” Came another order, and when he didn’t comply he was pulled back by his hair. A few tears escaped, but Paul didn’t comment on it, perhaps not noticing, much to Ash’s relief. He couldn’t stand more insults, couldn’t fully wrap his head around what was happening. How did he fuck up so badly? How did he put himself in that situation and how the living hell could he be that stupid? None of those silly scenarios he had been playing in his head for months would ever come true. Why get drunk on his fantasies, and forget the cruel reality in which his feelings, his intentions, pure or bad, won’t be accepted.

And why would Paul punish him like that?

“Are you going to do something, or are you really that incompetent?” Paul forced his head back on his cock, the tip barely brushing the back of Ash’s throat and making him gag; he was crying by now, struggling to free himself and bring air back to his lungs. Paul smiled. “Don’t tell me you’ve never fooled around like this during your journey. Or was it me that made you swing the other way?” He backed down, allowing Ash to take a big gulp of oxygen, before yanking once more at his hair. “What an honor!” Malicious laughter followed his statement, but when he spoke next, his tone went dark.

“I swear to God, if you don’t suck me off, I’ll tie you up and drag you to your friends so they can see just how pathetic you are.” Ash’s hands were trembling on his thighs; on the verge of breaking down and sobbing, he hollowed out his cheeks and sucked as hard as he could, earning a gasp for the other boy. He didn’t deserve this. No matter how twisted and stupid Paul thought his feelings were, he didn’t deserve any of this. Paul’s hand slid to the back of his neck and set a slow pace, back and forth and back and forth. A dull ache traveled through his jaw, closing it slowly.

“Watch your fucking teeth.” Paul hissed at him and he whimpered around his cock, trying hard to ignore the soreness and keep up with the pace. He felt sick to his stomach, his knees burned and so did his dignity. Crashed and burned in only one night. He’d never felt so dirty and used before in his life, and probably never will. Paul did his best to rip him apart, hurt him beyond repair, and for what?

He had slowed down without realizing, and Paul groaned in frustration, almost tearing off all of his hair, trying to get him to move, but he couldn’t anymore; the pain in his jaw had gotten unbearable, and tiredness took over him. He wanted it to end. Patience gone, Paul thrust himself into Ash’s mouth, hard, until the pace got erratic and he spilled over the edge, shuddering weakly and scrunching his nose as if unsatisfied.

He slammed his palm on Ash’s mouth when the other boy stood up to run away from him and get rid of the nauseous feeling in the pit of his abdomen. “Swallow.” He did as he was told, watching him with dead eyes; all his fantasies went wrong. The story he had so carefully written in his head had taken a dark turn. Paul’s face was the scariest thing he’s ever seen. “That was pathetic, you know? Worst I’ve ever had.” Paul shoved him away and tucked himself back in his underwear, zipping up his jeans. He felt small, insignificant, standing there in his briefs looking at Paul’s back and waiting, just waiting for something to happen. What could possibly happen now?

He had to get out of there. Wiping away his tears, Ash moved to grab his clothes, but Paul’s hand around his wrist stopped him. “Get out!”

“My clothes..” he tried to protest, wincing when Paul pushed him towards the door. “You don’t get your clothes back after that horrible performance. Now, get the fuck out, I don’t want to see your pathetic face ever again.”

The door slammed, leaving Ash sobbing in the hallway, wishing he’d never went knocking on it that night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what is wrong with me either :)


End file.
